


Inertia

by 221beyonce (noplacelikeholmes)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, F/F, No Sex, Paris - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noplacelikeholmes/pseuds/221beyonce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inertia: the tendency of an object to resist change to its motion. Johanna, a bubbly bookworm, while visiting her favorite bookshop, meets Polina, a beautiful Belorussian who speaks no English. Instantly, the two are fascinated with each other, and so begins our story of romance in 1920's Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inertia

**Author's Note:**

> Johanna Dietrich (Liechtenstein) and Polina Arlovskaya (Belarus)
> 
> In
> 
> INERTIA
> 
> SUMMARY: Inertia: the tendency of an object to reject change in its motion. Johanna, a bubbly bookworm, wanders into her favorite bookstore and meets Polina, a beautiful Belorussian who speaks no English. Instantly, they are intrigued by the other, and so begins our story of romance in 1920's Paris.
> 
> A/N: Hello! This is a gift to a friend on tumblr. While writing this story, I decided that I really didn't want to end it here, so this is the first chapter of "Inertia"! I hope you enjoy!

There is a neighborhood in Paris, France, with vine-covered flats, wine-colored doors, and stone-smothered pavements. The rain comes at least once a week. The smooth cobblestone streets echo with the click of ladies' heels and shine with little balls of light in the watery reflection of the lamplights. This street is Boulevard Depardieu. On the street is a quaint little flat with a red door, 814 Boulevard Depardieu, the setting of this romance.

This story began January 5, 1920. The temperatures plummeted to thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit, and a torrential downpour whipped the streets. Ordinary men and women, with tired eyes, made their way home after a long Friday at work. Some returned to their wives and husbands, others to their cats and books.

Johanna Dietrich looked forward to the cat on her couch and the books on the shelf. Pride and Prejudicestill remained open on the coffee table (hopefully Adler hadn't used it as a scratching post this time) where she left it. She did not bother to make haste on her way back to the flat, despite the rain lashing at her from above. She enjoyed soaking (literally) in the view of silvery Paris during showers.

With a turn of a key, Johanna stepped, soaked, into her dark apartment. The studio gestured to her warmly; "Welcome home," it seemed to say. Her shoes were neatly placed by the front door, her hat and coat on the hat rack.

A warm bath and pair of pajamas later, she was curled up on the couch. Pride and Prejudicehad survived Adler's claws, fortunately. "A romance is a perfect way to end the week, isn't it, Adler?" she smiled at the snowy feline, who nuzzled her thigh in reply.

Eventually (as in several hours later) the story was finished. Johanna didn't bother to move, instead closing the book and her eyes. The comforting pitter patter of raindrops on her window kept a steady, almost musical beat. Listening to the sound of the storm, she laid her head down on the pillows and drifted away.

The next morning, the deluge had subsided. An air of grey hung over Paris in the early morning. Johanna had nothing planned Saturday morning, and the books on her bookshelf seemed to be disappearing somehow (in reality they had all fallen behind the couch as she fell asleep reading them, never to be found and eventually used as a scratching toy for a curious cat). The mysterious disappearance of the novels meant only one thing: time to find some new ones! The bookshop was a few blocks away after all.

Letting her perky blonde curls fall to her shoulders and slathering rouge-red lipstick on her thin lips, she set off into the day.

Shakespeare and Company was a small bookstore on the rue Dupuytren. Johanna had passed by the bright bookshop time and time again, but never thought of actually visiting inside it until about six months prior. Curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had ventured inside.

To her surprise, books had absolutely littered the building. Each way you turned, there were shelves upon shelves of books to choose from. Each week since then, she would pop briefly into the store and read avidly. Last Monday she had taken Les Fleurs du mal, Much Ado about Nothing, and A Midsummer Night's Dream home; by Friday, each book had been read twice.

Nearly skipping her way into the store in delight, Johanna scanned the shelves for something interesting, and one book in particular caught her eye, A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sylvia, the store owner, had recommended it to her in one of their many engaging conversations about classic literature. Apparently it was the first of the famed Sherlock Holmes stories, and was the favorite of many.

Without even blinking, Johanna swiftly pulled the book from the shelf. Before leaving, however, she thought for a moment. If I'm going to read one book…I might as well read them all! Johanna grabbed the three novels next to it. With a small smile on her face, she made her way to the counter, only to find that there was no Sylvia today.

A striking young woman sat silently at the desk. Pale skin, cobalt eyes, and board-straight platinum blonde hair created an almost doll-like quality in her. For more than a millisecond, Johanna was stunned by the woman's loveliness.

"Dobry dzień," spoke the woman. Her voice was low and gruff, not quite friendly. There was no expression on her pretty face, only a severe glower that seemed angry. She nodded politely in greeting and took the books off of Johanna's hands.

"Hello. Erm….do you…speak English?" Johanna asked, awkwardly staring directly at the lady in front of her.

"Uhh….Što?"

"English?"

"O, nie, ja z Bielarusi. Ja nie viedaju anhieĺskaj movy."

One word that was recognizable was something that sounded a lot like "Belarus." The unfamiliar dialect was nearly impossible to decipher, but that one word stood out and made at least a bit of sense.

"From….Belarus?" Johanna suddenly felt even more uncomfortable than before. She didn't know what to say without saying something embarrassing (though since the stranger lacked knowledge of her language, she supposed she couldn't really embarrass herself).

"From Liechtenstein," Johanna used a hand to refer to herself. With a sweet smile, she extended a hand in greeting to the stranger. "Johanna Dietrich."

The woman took her small hand in her own and shook it, her air remaining grave. "Polina Arlovskaya."

Johanna beamed, hoping to elicit a response from Polina, but she received nothing. Though neither woman knew it, they were fascinated with the other for some unexplained reason. Green eyes met blue and stayed there for maybe a second too long, but all too quickly they turned away.

Johanna gave Polina the money and took the books. She made her way out of the shop, but not before bidding farewell to her new acquaintance. "Goodbye!" she said with a friendly wave.

Polina waved courteously, and bid Johanna a thickly-accented "Goodbye."

When Johanna propped her feet on the couch and dug into A Study in Scarlet, her mind continued to wander back to the grim but beautiful Polina Arlovskaya in the book shop. Adler, ever the faithful companion, meowed for her to pet him. You just love attention, don't you? She silently teased him.

"I met a girl named Polina at Shakespeare and Company today. I didn't see her smile even once. She doesn't speak English, either." Johanna's jade eyes became sad for a second. "I thought she was lovely. I wonder if she'll be in the shop again next week…" she wondered aloud.

The cat meowed in reply, and Johanna wondered jokingly if he was telling her something important. Soon, absorbed in the adventures of Holmes and Watson, Johanna fell asleep, thinking briefly about Polina at Shakespeare and Company.

Meanwhile, Polina browsed on the endless bookshelves of the store for a Belorussian-English dictionary

**Author's Note:**

> BELORUSSIAN TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Dobry dzień- Hello.
> 
> Što?- What?
> 
> O, nie, ja z Bielarusi. Ja nie viedaju anhieĺskaj movy.- Oh, no, I am from Belarus. I do not speak English.
> 
> FUN FACT: Shakespeare and Company was a real place run by Sylvia Beach in the 1920s. She had a partner who also owned a bookstore named Adrienne Monnier.


End file.
